Count The Ways
by Sheytune
Summary: Unconnected one-shots, each one based on a number.
1. One is the loneliest number

**Note:** And here we go with the numbers series. Some may be AU, some may not, it's very much up in the air at this point.

Also, this one? Not terribly happy. But that's probably clear from the title.

**Title:** One (is the loneliest number)

**AU? **Not at the start, anyway.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them

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Brennan carefully placed the last fork on the table and stepped back to admire her work. The tablecloth hung evenly on all sides of the table. The five place settings were perfectly centered on the place mats. The fresh flowers in the centerpiece contrasted nicely with the table linens.

The oven timer buzzed and she went back into the kitchen to put the finishing touches on the meal. By the time her doorbell rang, she had everything under control in the kitchen.

Angela and Hodgins were the first to arrive, and Angela was her usual cheery self, talking non-stop about how good the meal smelled, the difficulties of finding clothes that fit now that her regular clothes were too tight but she wasn't pregnant enough for maternity clothes, and the sunset they had witnessed from the car.

They hung their coats in the front closet and Brennan offered them drinks – wine for Hodgins, sparkling water for Angela.

The three of them had no sooner settled onto the couch than the doorbell rang again as the remaining guests arrived.

Soon, the food was ready and the group settled itself around the table. They had all traveled extensively, and they swapped stories about the problems they had run into – government officials who didn't approve of an excavation, the challenges of a woman chasing a story in a country that didn't exactly encourage independence in its women, running out of money in a small town in South America.

Angela's morning sickness kicked in as soon as she smelled the rice side dish, and as she scraped her portion onto Hodgins plate, he made a joke about eating for two, his eyes twinkling as he grinned at his wife.

By the time the meal was over, everyone was full, each of them complaining that they couldn't eat a bite more, but when Brennan brought out the apple pie she had picked up for dessert, they managed to find room. In fact, Booth somehow managed to eat two pieces, proclaiming it the best pie he had eaten all week.

They retired to the living room – Booth arm around Hannah as they sat on the couch; Angela cuddled into a chair with Hodgins; Brennan sitting on the remaining chair. The conversation was light as they touched on such diverse topics as Parker's latest hockey game, Angela's high school reunion, and the best place to get a pedicure in DC.

By the time her guests left, Booth's hand resting proprietorially at the small of Hannah's back, Brennan was exhausted. When had all of her friends become _couples_?

**BbB**

"Hey, Sweetie." Angela breezed into Brennan's office like she usually did, walking over to plant herself beside the desk.

Brennan reluctantly looked away from the computer. "Hi, Angela."

Angela took this as an invitation and sat on a corner of the desk. "Thanks for having us all over last night. We need to get together more – you know, when no human remains involved."

Brennan smiled weakly. "Oh. Yes, I had a nice time, too."

Angela rubbed her hands together. "That's why I was thinking we should all go to the opening of the new paleontology exhibit. We can get dinner first, then show up for the big ceremony."

Brennan swiveled her chair to look at her friend. "I don't know."

Angela waggled her eyebrows. "Come on, it'll be fun. You, me and Hodgins, Booth and Hannah, Sweets and Daisy. I think I've even convinced Cam to bring her new man. I can't believe they've been dating for two months and we haven't even met him!"

Brennan made a show of consulting her calendar. "Sorry, Ange, I'm busy that night. I'll be out of town – I have a book-signing in Chicago."

"Oh." Angela stood, disappointment written across her face. "Well, maybe we can reschedule and just have dinner another time." 

"No." Brennan shook her head. "You guys go ahead without me. Have a good time."

**BbB**

Brennan walked into her apartment and dropped her bag by the door, not really sure how she felt about the decision that lay before her.

When she had first considered having a child, it had been a spur of the moment decision, something she hadn't even known she wanted until the words left her mouth. When Booth had changed his mind, she had been disappointed, but when he was rushed into surgery, she had put the idea aside.

Angela's pregnancy had brought it crashing back. She heard Angela complaining about cravings and morning sickness, and she wondered how it felt. She watched Angela's balance shift as her body adjusted to the new life inside of her, and she imagined her own body going through a similar change.

She pictured Angela holding her newborn child, and a wave of jealousy threatened to overwhelm her.

She had a good job, sufficient financial resources. She could adequately provide for a child. Why couldn't it be her?

Of course, pregnancy required a man, and it's not like she was seeing anyone. In fact it had been … how long had it been? She counted back, stunned at the realization that between work and writing and _Booth_, she hadn't made time for a relationship, for _sex_, in an embarrassing number of months.

She supposed she could go out, find someone who would be willing to father her child, but that seemed … inadequate. Wrong, really. She wasn't sure she could let a man touch her.

The irrational thought made her angry. Why should she sit around, celibate as a nun, because of her newly-realized feelings for her partner?

He had at one time claimed that he wanted more with her, but he didn't seem to have any trouble moving on. Why couldn't she do the same?

Even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it didn't matter – she couldn't have a child with a man she barely knew.

That left one option.

**BbB**

_Negative._

Brennan sat on the bathroom floor, her eyes blindly staring at the pregnancy test that dangled from her hand.

All of that effort – picking the perfect candidate from the sperm bank, the hormones, the budding hope that she would end up with a child to love, to teach, to share her life with – for nothing.

She had failed.

**BbB**

Once, she had been content on her own. She had been her own person, doing what she wanted when she wanted without having to consult anyone else.

Over the last seven years, her independence and detachment had disappeared, swept away in a tide of "Come on, Bones, lunch time"s and "Don't give me that, sweetie, you are coming with me to that club"s and "You look just like your mother"s.

Now, though, the people who made her feel connected, part of a group, had moved on, found others to spend their time with. She was left alone, bereft, unable to remember how to be happy by herself.

Chiding herself for her overly-dramatic thoughts, she picked up her keys and drove back to work. There, at least, she was needed.

**BbB**

She could _feel _the music. As she made her way through the crowd, she wondered if she should advise the management about the known dangers of excessive, prolonged noise.

The other patrons didn't seem to mind as they gyrated on the dance floor.

An hour ago, sick of moping, she had decided that she should go out, have fun, maybe meet a sexual partner. Bars were an accepted venue for such things, so she had googled the hottest bar in DC and called a cab.

Now she was surrounded by people, yet she'd never felt more alone.

She had to persevere. She had come here with an objective, and she intended to see it through. First, though, she needed a drink. The bartender was at the other end of the bar, and she waited somewhat impatiently for him to make his way back to her end.

Someone bumped into her and she stumbled, bumping into someone else in turn. "I'm sorry", she said as she turned to face the person she'd hit.

"It's OK", the man answered, smiling. "It's pretty crowded in here."

Relieved that he wasn't angry, Brennan smiled back. "Yes! Someone just ran into me – but I guess you know that."

The man shook his head in mock dismay. "And here I thought you just wanted to meet me." He held out his hand. "I'm Doug, by the way."

Brennan shook his hand. "Temperance."

The bartender approached and Doug signaled him over. Nodding at the empty bottle on the bar, he said, "I'll have another beer, and Temperance will have ..." He turned to Brennan.

Slowly, she smiled. "I've always wanted to try one of those drinks with an umbrella in them."

**BbB**

They walked together into the night, leaving the noisy crowd behind, Doug's hand at the small of her back. A cab appeared down the block, and Brennan asked, "Do you want to come home with me?"

Doug shook his head. "Not tonight. But I would very much like to see you again."

**BbB**

She spent an hour trying on clothes – bright red lingerie or cream? Dress or form-fitting pants? Heels that made her legs look endless, or flats so that they were the same height?

She even considered filling her bedroom with candles before discarding the idea as too romantic. This wasn't about love – it was about moving on.

When Doug kissed her the first time, it had initially felt strange, wrong. His cologne was a little too strong, his hair a little too curly. When she opened her eyes, the eyes that sparkled back at her were blue, not brown. It wasn't until late that night that she realized that the last man she kissed had been Booth.

Over the past few weeks, she had adjusted. They had had several dates – an art showing, rock climbing, a behind the scenes tour of the Jeffersonian – and they had grown closer. Well, intellectually closer. Physically, they hadn't gone much beyond that first tentative kiss.

That was going to change tonight.

**BbB**

"Doug wants us to move in together."

Angela stopped, french fry half way to her mouth. "Oh."

Brennan took a sip from her coffee. "I'm thinking of saying yes."

The baby stirred, and Angela rocked the car seat as she asked, "Is that what you want?"

Brennan's eyes met Angela's. "We agree on so many things, Ange – he's a vegetarian, his career is as important to him a mine is to me, he's very intelligent, we share interests... I don't think we've ever had a real fight."

Angela picked up her fussy daughter, patting her back as she turned her attention back to Brennan. "As long as you're happy, sweetie."

**BbB**

"I'll leave in the morning."

Tears glistened in Doug's eyes as Brennan sat beside him. "I'm sorry", she said, hating herself for the pain she was causing him.

She wanted to feel angry, to scream and fight, but all she felt was guilt and an overwhelming numbness. She had thought that cohabitating was the right choice, but she had felt smothered almost as soon as he had moved in. When she tried to read, he wanted to talk. When she worked on her book, he watched TV, the volume up just high enough to make concentration impossible. When she went into the kitchen, there would be a dirty dish sitting in the otherwise pristine sink.

She had started to resent him until the only possible solution was for him to leave.

Desperate to do something to make it better, she took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She didn't know what to say, so she kissed him.

Their clothes fell to the floor and they stumbled to the bed, neither of them willing to break the connection. He entered her and as they moved together, a tear rolled down his cheek and fell onto hers. She tightened her arms around him, hoping he'd be able to feel how much she regretted hurting him.

When they were done, they lay facing each others, whispering their regrets. They fell asleep with their arms around each other.

She woke alone.

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**Wow, that was … so not where I thought this was going to go. And I suspect there may now be a worldwide comma shortage. Suggestions for 2?**


	2. Terrible Twos

**Note:** Sorry, this one took forever - in part because I started going down the "Two to Tango" road, in part because I'm just not feeling terribly inspired. That should get worse later this week. :)

**Title:** Terrible Twos

**AU? **Well, I assume it will be, but technically not yet.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them

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"I'm coming!" Brennan set the sopping wet dishcloth on the table and made her way to the door, dodging the scattered toys along the way. When she was three steps away, her foot came down on a block that was half-hidden under a fallen jacket. Cursing, she hopped to the door and flung it open.

"Hey, Bones."

At the sight of her partner, Brennan became acutely aware of her ratty sweatpants, messy hair, and ketchup-stained t-shirt. How could he manage to look so _good? _ It was almost irritating to see him standing there freshly shaved, clad in impeccable jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his chest. She felt like a disaster area in comparison.

"Come to laugh at me?" She didn't realize how harsh the question was until she saw him wince. She bit her lip as she tried to find a way to make things right – a way to apologize for taking her frustration out on him. "I'm sorry, Booth, I ..."

He cut her off. "It's OK, Bones." He peered past her, noticing the breakfast dishes that still covered the table, the toys that littered the floor, and the very happy boy currently pulling books off the bookshelf. "It looks like it's been a rough week."

Brennan turned to see what had caught his attention and gasped. "Nate!" She rushed over to her son and picked him up. "Those are not your books, honey. Those are mommy's books."

Nate regarded her seriously, then shook his head in denial. "No! Mine books."

"No, Nate. Mommy's books. Here." She set him on the floor beside a bucket of blocks. "These are Nate's toys."

Nate picked up the bucket and upended it, sending blocks scattering across the floor, and Brennan turned her attention back to Booth. "Sorry, Booth. Megan has been sick all week – I called the agency, but they were out of substitute nannies. How is the case going?"

Booth took in her appearance – the bags under her eyes, the disheveled clothing, the limp, greasy hair – and said, "He's been running you ragged, hasn't he?"

Brennan opened her mouth to answer, only to find herself sobbing. Booth wrapped his arms around her and held her as she cried out the frustration of the week, patting her back and murmuring soothing words in her ear.

When she had finished crying, she pulled away, realizing she had again let him comfort her as she fell apart – despite everything that had gone on between them. "You don't have to let me sob all over you."

Booth cupped her cheek. "I don't mind. We're partners, right? Partners look out for each other."

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, and he continued, "You look like you need a break, Bones, and it just so happens that I have the day free. How about I take Nate for the day?"

Once, Brennan would have spent a free Saturday working – identifying bodies from bone storage, working on her novel, consulting with colleagues from around the world. Now all she could think of was a nice, hot bath – thirty minutes of uninterrupted time with no one calling for her or making a mess. She couldn't ask Booth to do that, though. Nate was her child, her responsibility. "That's nice of you, Booth, but I can't impose..."

Booth shook his head. "You're not imposing, Bones. It'll be great – Nate and I will go off and do guy things, and you can do whatever you want – read a book, take a shower, get your nails done, whatever."

He waggled his eyebrows and Brennan laughed, wondering at how his mere presence could make her feel better. "Nate is two, Booth. I hardly think he's going to want to do guy things. I'm not even sure I want to know what's included in 'guy things'".

Booth grinned at her. "You're not a guy, Bones, couldn't tell you anyway." He clapped his hands together. "OK, is there a diaper bag or something?"

**BbB**

Six hours later, Brennan's apartment was clean – toys picked up, floors vacuumed, surfaces within the reach of small hands washed. She had taken a bubble bath, reading until the water had gone cold, then crawled into bed and slept for an hour.

She woke refreshed and pulled on clean jeans and a flattering shirt. She dried her hair, noticing as she did that the circles under her eyes didn't seem as dark as they had before.

She had a bite to eat and curled up on the couch with a journal, noticing for the first time how _empty_ her apartment seemed. It was a relief when the door opened and Nate came barreling in, yelling "Mommy!"

She crouched down and pulled him into her arms, then stood and planted a kiss on his lips. "Nate! I missed you. Did you have a good time with Booth?"

Nate nodded vigorously. "Big truck."

Brennan looked at Booth and raised her eyebrows inquiringly. "That's right, buddy.", Booth agreed. He grinned at Brennan. "They tore down the building next to mine. We went to my place for a nap and saw the trucks hauling away debris."

Brennan brushed Nate's hair off his forehead, then started undoing his jacket. "That sounds exciting, Nate. What else did you do?"

"Playground."

"You went to the playground?", Brennan asked, "Did you go on the slide?"

Booth laughed. "He was _fearless_."

Brennan pulled off Nate's jacket and grinned at his stained shirt. She looked up at Booth. "I see you had something to eat."

"Spaghetti. Sorry, I didn't have another shirt for him."

"That's OK. Come on, Nate, it looks like it's time for you to have a bath." She pulled off his shoes and tossed them by the door.

"No!"

"Yes, Nate, you need a bath." Brennan walked towards the bathroom, calling over her shoulder, "You're welcome to stay, Booth. Have a seat."

Nate protested, but once he was in the tub, he had such a good time splashing and playing with his bath toys that he didn't want to get out. When he was clean, dry, and dressed in his pajamas, Brennan took him out into the living room. Booth was sitting on the couch, flipping through the journal she had left on the coffee table. "Booth?"

At the sound of her voice, Booth looked up. When he saw Nate, he grinned. "Looking good, buddy. Is it bed time?"

"Yes", Brennan replied. "We were just going to read a story. Do you want to come with us?"

Booth jumped to his feet. "I love stories. Lead the way."

**BbB**

When the stories were read and Nate had been tucked in, Booth and Brennan settled on the couch, both of them instinctively angling their body to face the other. Brennan's head rested against the back of the couch as she looked at the familiar face of her partner.

There had been a time where such an easy familiarity would have been unheard of – a time when Booth's commitment to Hannah and Brennan's decision to have a child on her own had come between them. They had still been partners, but their time together had been largely limited to work hours.

Over the past few months, they had started to grow closer again, meeting for lunch when there had been no case for a while, doing paperwork together in the evenings after Nate was in bed instead of in the office or on their own.

Brennan took a sip of her wine, then said, "Thank you, Booth. You didn't have to take him today."

"He's a good kid, Bones. I liked hanging out with him."

Brennan set the wine glass on the coffee table and asked, "Does it make me a horrible mother that I enjoyed the time alone?"

"You're a great mom, Bones." Booth's eyes captured hers, the sincerity in them unmistakable. "But kids, they're a lot of work. There's nothing wrong with needing a break."

"You thought I was making a mistake when I had Nate. You thought ..." Brennan stopped to take a deep breath. "You thought I wouldn't be a good mother." The words echoed in the quiet apartment.

"No!" The denial was out of his mouth before he knew he was going to speak. "No, Bones." She hadn't told him she was considering motherhood. Why would she have? He was becoming more and more involved with Hannah, and he and Brennan were drifting farther and farther apart. She had made the decision on her own – researching potential sperm donors, meeting with doctors, investigating child care options.

When she finally told him, she was already pregnant. He had been under the impression that she had abandoned the idea after he had turned her down, and he was shocked to find out that she had gone through with it. As much as he wanted to be happy for her, the months that followed were torture. He had always wanted more children, and watching the woman he had loved for years grow big with another man's child was a constant reminder that he would not have another child as long as he was with Hannah. He had pulled back, hoping that distance would help him accept his life as it was.

Now, though, he realized that she had misinterpreted his distance. There was nothing to do but tell the truth. "I was jealous, Bones. I _knew_ you'd be a good mom. You have so much love to give – there was no doubt in my mind that any child would be lucky to have you as a parent. I just … I wanted another child, and Hannah didn't. It was hard for me to see you getting what I wanted, especially since … since for a while I hoped we'd have a child together."

"Oh." When she told him she was pregnant, he had seemed shocked. The logical inference was that he thought she wouldn't be a good parent. His words now made her look at the last few years in a new way, as if she had suddenly discovered that she was wearing glasses that distorted the view.

"Nate's a great kid, Bones, and he's lucky to have you for a mom." His eyes bored into hers, begging her to believe him.

"Thank you, Booth", she replied quietly.

They relaxed into a companionable silence, lost in thought. When Brennan had come to terms with their discussion, she shifted to look at him and asked, "Do you still want more kids?"

He met her gaze. "Yes."

She stood up and walked towards the balcony doors, unreasonably upset at the idea of him having a child with someone else. "But … you're not dating anyone, are you? I don't recall you mentioning a sexual partner since Hannah left."

"No", he answered, "I'm not dating anyone."

She bit her lower lip, worrying it with her teeth. Still looking out the window, she asked, 'Why not?"

"You know why not, Bones."

She turned her back to the balcony doors and faced him. 'No, I don't, Booth. If you want kids, it is only reasonable for you to be looking for a sexual partner, someone who wants what you want."

He stood and walked towards her as she took an involuntary step back, stopping when her back hit the cool glass of the door. "You know why not, Bones. I told you once that I'd love you for thirty or forty or fifty years. I can't stop loving you, and I can't find someone else and love you at the same time. I tried with Hannah, and it wasn't fair to her. I can't do that again."

He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. It had been a long time since they'd been physically this close to each other, and she fought to concentrate. "You loved Hannah, Booth. You told me so more than once.'

"I did love her, Bones, but not the way I love you. I couldn't. You're it for me."

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his words. "Then … I don't understand. You told me you'd moved on. You haven't given me any indication that you want a sexual relationship with me."

"I want it all with you, Bones. Sex, yes, but also love, a shared life, a family. But … somewhere along the way, we became 'just partners' – only seeing each other for professional reasons. I know that's changing now, but I didn't want to pressure you into more than you were ready for."

He stepped back, increasing the distance between them. "I can wait, Bones. I hope someday you'll want what I want, but if that doesn't happen, I want to be part of your life in whatever way you're comfortable with."

"What if I already want what you want?"

Booth smiled, but his eyes were sad. "You need to know, Bones. I can't lose you again."

Brennan took a step forward until they were toe to toe. "I _know_, Booth." She placed her hands on his shoulders and reached up to capture his lips in a gentle kiss. "I told you that a long time ago."

She kissed him again, trying to communicate the depth of her feelings. He reciprocated, and the kiss deepened. When they finally parted, he asked, "Are you sure?"

Her eyes met his, her expression serious. "You know I can't promise you forever, but I do know that I can't picture my life without you in it."

He smiled, almost giddy at the thought that she loved him back. "I can't picture my life without you in it, either, Bones. I don't ever want to." He stepped back, knowing that if he didn't leave soon, he wouldn't want to go. "I should go. Hey, do you want to get breakfast or something tomorrow?"

Brennan took his hands in hers. "Stay."

She kissed him again, then let go of one hand to lead him towards the bedroom. When they reached Nate's room, she glanced in, happy to see that Nate had drifted off to sleep. They continued down the hall until they reached the master bedroom.

There was a moment of awkwardness as they realized the enormity of the step they were taking, but soon their clothes lay discarded on the floor and they were lying on the bed.

They knew each other so well, yet this was a new experience for them. They made love slowly, taking their time and enjoying the process of learning each other's likes and dislikes.

By the time Booth slipped inside of her, Brennan was approaching her second orgasm. The feel of him inside of her pushed her over the edge again, and he stilled as she pulsed around him. When he finally began to move, he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, giving her time to recover. She moaned as he stimulated already sensitive nerves, but when he began to move faster, she moved with him, surprised to feel herself approaching yet another orgasm.

He couldn't hold out forever, and his pace increased as he got closer to the edge. He came, and seconds later she followed. He rolled off of her and pulled her into his arms, pulling the covers over them.

He was almost asleep when she spoke. "Booth?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Yes, I'd like to have breakfast with you tomorrow."

**BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb**

**Of a kind? Little pigs? Musketeers? **


	3. Third Time's the Charm

**Note:** This would be easier if watching the show didn't make me not want to think about the show. Not sure we'll make it to five, but we'll see how it goes.

**Title:** Third Time's the Charm

**AU? **No

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them

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The first time he fell in love, he was five. Jenny was in his kindergarten class, and she had the prettiest green eyes he'd ever seen.

They didn't play together at school – after all, he couldn't be seen playing with a _girl_ – but they lived on the same street, and when none of their classmates were around, they were the best of friends. They climbed trees and rode bikes. They played with dinosaurs and dolls and trucks. They sat on the porch and ate popsicles that stained their shirts orange.

It wasn't until the third grade that her mom stopped letting Jenny come over to his house after school.

He was thirteen the next time it happened. Megan had blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that made his stomach flip over. She was sixteen and didn't know he was alive.

As the years went on, he fell in like and in love again and again. He could be charming when he wanted to, and it was not hard for him to find a date.

Some of his relationships were casual – friends who enjoyed each other's company in and out of bed. Others were more serious, but yet he never managed to take that step into something more permanent. He wanted a wife and family eventually, but it just never seemed right.

He met Rebecca on an unusually cold January morning. He was on his way to the gym, rushing in an attempt to get there before his fingers froze. She walked out out of her apartment building juggling her keys, her purse, her briefcase, and a cup of coffee, and he almost knocked her over. Embarrassed, he sputtered apologies, and somehow managed to pull himself together long enough to ask her out.

They had dinner that night, sharing small talk and appetizers before moving to deeper conversation over their entrees. Despite his protests, she insisted on paying for her own meal. When the meal ended, he was pleasantly surprised when she smiled her open smile and asked, "Come home with me?"

They were barely inside her front door when she kissed him, nudging the door shut behind him and walking forward until his back hit the door. As they kissed, her hand made its way down his body. She unzipped his pants and pulled out his erection, then grinned mischievously and sank to her knees in front of him.

It was the most enthusiastic blow job he'd ever received. One hand wrapped around his cock, twisting and sliding along the length. Her other hand fondled his balls, rolling and lifting them. All the while, her mouth and tongue worked the head.

When she pulled away and asked "Bedroom?", he would have followed her anywhere.

They dated for months, growing closer and closer, yet never quite took the final step. It wasn't until Rebecca thought she might be pregnant that he realized he had to take the leap, that he wasn't just going to meet someone and _know._ He loved her. It was time.

When she said no, it was the beginning of the end.

**BbB**

He met Hannah at a low point of his life – far from friends and family, in a war zone, after having been rejected by a woman he hadn't heard from since they had both decided to walk away from their partnership.

Hannah was the proverbial breath of fresh air. He fell hard, bowled over by her intelligence and enthusiasm. Somehow, she had managed to avoid becoming jaded by the horrors she'd seen. She gave him hope – hope that there was good in the world, hope that he would see his son again, hope that one day he would have the love that he desperately wanted.

When he returned to D.C., he didn't know when he'd see her again. After all, she didn't want to move back to the US, and he couldn't spend more time away from his son. He didn't want to let her go, but a small part of him knew he would have to. It would be next to impossible to keep a relationship intact with just phone calls, e-mails, and an occasional vacation together.

When she changed her mind and took a job in D.C., he felt like he'd won the lottery. She could have been anywhere in the world, yet she chose to be with him.

He wasn't going to miss this chance.

They moved in together and began to develop a shared life – lazy Saturday mornings in bed, cuddling on the couch in front of the TV, bickering over whose turn it was to take out the garbage. She met his son and the three of them spent time together. Her parents came to visit, and he helped her clean the kitchen even though he thought it was clean enough already.

It was nice. He had his life back – his job at the FBI, his partnership with Bones, weekends and the occasional weeknight with Parker – and he had a woman to come home to, someone to ask about her day, someone to tell about his.

The sex was good. No, the sex was _amazing_. It wasn't a surprise that she was adventurous – after all, their first time together had been under a fig tree in the desert – but he'd never had a lover who was so spontaneous. There was the Friday night when she'd surprised him at work. Somehow, the night ended with her bent over his desk while he pounded into her. There was the trip to the grocery store where she purposefully teased him until they ended up tearing each other's clothes off in the dingy men's room. God knows what he would have done if it hadn't been a single-occupancy bathroom. His favorite, though, was when they made love in his bed, falling asleep in each other's arms.

Their relationship wasn't perfect – she wasn't used to consulting anyone before taking off after a story, he had ties – to people and things – that she couldn't understand. Still, he wanted it to last forever.

It didn't.

**BbB**

If experience had taught him anything, it was that nothing lasts forever. After Hannah left, he stopped looking for someone to share his life with.

He dated, but he made sure to choose women who would be content with a somewhat superficial relationship. He wasn't proud of what he was doing – it flew in the face of everything he had believed for so long – but the alternative was sitting at home brooding over the mess his life had become. When the loneliness got to be too much, he found a woman to spend time with, someone who wouldn't mind that he never introduced her to his son or his friends.

That all fell apart when he ran into Hodgins and Angela at a restaurant. They were on their first date since their son was born. He was with a woman whose name he couldn't remember.

Hodgins started giggling like a school girl when he realized what was going on. Angela, on the other hand, looked like she could happily kill him.

She could probably get away with it, too.

Of course, that wasn't the worst part. The worst part came the next day, on the way to a crime scene. Bones had been sneaking subtle looks at him since they left the Jeffersonian. As usual, they weren't as subtle as she thought they were.

When he couldn't take it anymore, he snapped, "What?"

She looked at him as if she'd never seen him before. "Are you OK, Booth?"

He had expected anger or disappointment, but the concern in her voice disarmed him. "Fine, Bones. Never better." He forced a smile.

"Angela said she saw you last night? I didn't know you were dating anyone."

"Yeah." His hands clenched on the steering wheel.

"Oh", she said quietly. "Well, I hope you and Melanie will be very happy together."

He couldn't bear to answer her, to thank her for her concern. The awkward silence stretched on for far too long, until he finally asked, "Can you check the map, Bones? How far is it until the turn off?"

She opened the map, muttering about how her car had GPS, and before he had to think of another topic of conversation, they arrived at the crime scene.

It was a long case, but eventually the squints found the critical piece of evidence. When the killer was behind bars, he called to tell her.

It had been longer than he could remember since they had spent an evening alone together, so it was a surprise when she asked, "Do you want to pick up some food and finish the paperwork?"

He grimaced. That was all he needed – an evening with his partner, smelling her perfume, listening to her laugh, forgetting all the reasons why he had been keeping his distance. "Sorry, Bones, I can't tonight."

"Oh." Her tone was brisk and factual, with a slight undertone of – was that hurt? "I understand, Booth. I'm sure you have plans."

"Yeah", he agreed, hoping she wouldn't hear the insincerity in his voice, "Another time."

His went through with his plans and went home, cracked open a beer, and turned on the TV. It was the middle of the third period when he heard the knock on his door.

"Cam? Did we have plans?" Booth wracked his brain, trying to figure out why she was at his door at 9:05 on a Friday night.

"No", she answered, pushing past him to enter his apartment. As he stared after her, she made her way to the couch and sat down. He shut the door, watching as she pushed aside junk food bags and beer bottles and relaxed back, propping her feet up on the coffee table.

He walked over and sat down beside her. "Not that it's not good to see you, Camille, but what are you doing here?"

She turned her head to look at him, not bothering to raise it off the back of the couch. "What are you doing, Seeley?"

Booth gestured at the TV. "Watching the game?" It came out as a question.

"No." Her feet hit the floor and she sat up straight, angling her body to look at him. "What are you _doing_? Are you trying to be just another guy that lets her down?"

"She doesn't want me." The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was going to say.

Cam rolled her eyes. "Right." Her voice was thick with disbelief.

"She said no."

Cam nodded slowly. "So you took a chance and she shot you down. That's what caused your sudden interest in going to Afghanistan?"

Booth nodded, his jaw tight.

"Well, Seeley, I've been spending a lot more time with her than you have lately, and I'm telling you as your friend – try again."

She got up and walked toward the door while Booth sat on the couch, pondering her words. As she pulled open the door, he said, "Camille?"

She stopped and looked at him. "Don't call me Seeley."

She grinned. "Don't call me Camille."

He lost track of how long he sat there after the door closed behind her. When he finally looked at the clock, it was 10:30.

He was running down the stairs, keys in his hand, at 10:32. By 10:47, he had pulled to a stop in front of her building, and a minute or two later he was standing at her door, listening to the doorbell echo in the empty apartment.

By 11 pm., he was sitting dejectedly on the floor in her hallway, wondering what loser she was out with. It took until 11:09 for him to wonder if she was at the lab.

By the time he got there, it was almost 11:30. She was standing on the platform, her attention focused on the skeleton on the table in front of her.

His footprints seemed abnormally loud in the quiet room. She heard him, turning to greet him long before he reached the platform. "Booth? Do we have a case?" She pulled off her gloves in preparation for getting her kit together.

"No." His heart was racing as he swiped his card in the card reader and bounded up the steps to the platform. Belatedly, he realized he should have figured out what to say on his way over.

She looked at him, her confusion evident on her face. "Oh. Why are you here?"

"That woman, it's not serious."

She looked at him. "Melanie? The woman Angela saw you with yesterday?"

"Yes, her. It's not serious."

Her eyes were focused on his, seemingly testing the truth of his words. For a second, he thought she understood what he was _really _trying to say, but at the last second, she looked away. "It's really none of my business. You don't owe me an explanation."

She turned to pull a new pair of gloves out of the box, but he covered her hands with his. "You told me once that you didn't want to have any regrets."

She didn't answer, waiting quietly to see what else he had to say. He continued, "I have regrets, Bones. I regret that I pushed you for something you weren't ready for. I regret that I tried for so long to avoid facing how I feel about you." He swallowed. "I don't want to regret missing another chance."

She looked at him, a light in her eyes that he hadn't seen in longer than he could remember. "I don't know if we'll get that thirty or forty or fifty years together, Bones, but I do know I want to try."

"Booth ..." Her voice trailed off, as if she had forgotten what she wanted to say.

"Bones, can we try?"

He could read the emotions that flickered across her face – fear, hurt, trepidation, hope, and finally trust. "Yes."

**BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb**

**Square? Of July? Four is going to be AU – I'm open to suggestions about that as well. :)**


	4. Four Leaf Clover

**Note:** Sorry, I know it's been forever. I was totally uninspired, then (after Daredevil in the Mold), I was totally inspired but sick with a cold. Then I was lazy … well, you don't really need a day-by-day explanation.

**Title:** Four Leaf Clover

**AU? ** Yes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them

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The windows were open, letting the wind blow through her hair as she drove. It was a hot, cloudless summer day , and being out on the road was exhilarating. As she sang along with the radio, she found herself surprisingly content.

She had expected to be starting university this week, but a paperwork snafu had rendered her ineligible for student loans. She had been offered a couple of scholarships, but even with them, the savings she had from her part-time job wouldn't be enough to get her through the semester.

She had wanted to cry, but she knew from painful experience that it wouldn't help. Instead, she choose a different direction.

She used the money she had saved to buy a used car. It wasn't in great condition, but it offered her the escape she needed. She packed her meager possessions, loaded them in the car, and took off down the road.

At first, she had stuck to the interstates, but after a while, her urge to escape the life she'd left behind had faded. She started choosing less well-traveled routes – minor highways, winding scenic routes, and the occasional gravel road. It gave her a chance to see a world she'd never known – small family farms, old abandoned barns kneeling as if in prayer, fields of grain waving in the wind. It was peaceful, a drastic change from the city.

She had no particular destination in mind, planning to drive as far as she could before her money ran out.

By mid-morning, she found herself in a small town. It consisted of the usual assortment of services – a gas station, a grocery store, a bank, a couple of churches, and a small school. She was running low on supplies, so she purchased some lunch meat, bread, fruit, and ice for the small cooler in the trunk and ate her lunch in the shade of an old tree in the park. When she was done eating, she sat a while longer, idly watching children climbing on the play structure. As she sat, she picked clover from the lawn, tearing off leaves absent-mindedly.

She picked another piece of clover, surprised to find it had four leaves. She was pretty sure that was supposed to be good luck – if a plant could bring good luck. It was a ridiculous thought.

Instead of tearing off the leaves, though, she shoved it into the pocket of her jeans before packing up her supplies. It was time to get back on the road.

A mile or two out of town, she saw a gravel road and decided to see where it would lead. Ten minutes later, the gravel thinned, soon giving way to a dirt road. The road curved, and as she made her way around the corner, a deer ran out in front of her. She hit the brakes, realizing too late that she had veered onto the loose gravel at the side of the road. The car spun as she lost control. When it stopped, she found herself in the ditch by the side of the road.

Shaken, she got out and walked around the car, hoping the damage wasn't too serious. It was clear that she wouldn't be able to drive out of the ditch. All she could do was wait and hope that someone would come along soon.

She sat dejectedly on the side of the road and shoved her hands into her pockets. When her hand touched the forgotten four-leaf clover, she pulled it out and stared at it. "You certainly didn't bring me much luck", she said, almost glad there was no one around to see her talking to a dying plant.

She dropped the clover into the dust and put her elbows on her knees, cradling her head in her hands.

**BbB**

Booth handed Mrs. Mitchell her keys and smiled pleasantly. "Your car should be good as new, ma'am."

A year ago, he'd been fresh out of the army. When he'd stumbled across this town, it had been refreshingly normal – shady, tree-lined streets, neat houses, a town square filled with grass, the only sand in the playground of the elementary school.

He was so very sick of sand.

His first weekend in the good old USA had been spent in Vegas, and his pocket was full of his winnings. When he'd seen the gas station, garage, and attached apartment for sale, it had felt like fate was beckoning him there. A couple of days later, he was the proud new owner.

His arrival had caused a bit of a stir, and the first few months he had been inundated with busy bodies and matchmakers – women looking for a man, mothers trying to set him up with their daughters, men checking out the competition. He stayed out of it as much as he could, hoping that the newness would wear off and he'd be allowed to go about his business in peace.

It worked. After about six months of him calmly explaining that he wasn't looking to date anyone, people mostly left him alone.

That suited him just fine. At one point, he had thought that he'd marry and have a family, but after what he'd seen and done in the Middle East, he had reconsidered.

Whenever he needed feminine companionship, he'd take a weekend, drive to the nearest city, and spend a night or two with a willing woman. He got what he needed, and the townspeople had no reason to gossip about him.

Life was good.

**BbB**

Brennan jumped to her feet at the sound of the motor, waving her arms to make herself more visible. When the truck stopped, she almost sobbed with gratitude.

An older man stepped out, nodding in greeting.

Brennan couldn't remember the last time she had been so happy to see someone. "Thank you", she said. "I was afraid no one would come by."

The man grunted, crouching to look under the car. After a couple of minutes, he stood and said, "I'll pull you out." Ten minutes later, Brennan's car was back on the road. After profusely thanking her benefactor, she jumped in and started making her way back to the highway.

As she moved off of the gravel road and onto the pavement, she heard a clunking noise from under the car. Almost immediately, the car was filled with an irritatingly loud noise.

She pulled over and got out, but couldn't figure out what was causing the problem. When she couldn't think of another option, she got back in the car and started driving.

By the time she reached the small town, her head was pounding. She pulled in at the first gas station she saw and turned off the car, relishing the relative silence. Mentally reviewing the contents of her meager bank account, she stepped out of the car and walked into the garage.

Four hours later, Brennan picked up the same magazine for the third time. She had read it cover to cover twice before, but at least it was mildly better than her other choices – gossip and parenting magazines from at least six months ago.

It felt like forever since the irritating mechanic had taken her keys and motioned her into the waiting room. She was hungry, but she had foolishly left her cooler in the car. All she could do was wait and hope that he'd be done soon.

She supposed she couldn't complain – after all, she was sure he had other customers to take care of. Still, she found herself anxiously waiting. Her funds were limited, and this repair might be too much for her to handle.

When the door opened, she looked up, hoping it was the mechanic coming to tell her what it would cost to fix her car. Instead, it was a young man, probably close to her age. He grinned at her. "Hi there, Seeley around?"

She didn't understand the question. "Seeley?"

His eyes twinkled at her. "Yes … tall guy, wears a blue jumpsuit, kind of grumpy?"

"Oh! He's through there." She pointed at the door to the main shop.

"Great." The young man walked over to her and held out his hand. "I'm Jared, by the way. Mr. Grumpy's brother. I'm here for a couple of weeks – just finished basic training, and I figured I'd come check out my big brother's new place."

She shook his hand. "Temperance. I'm just passing through." Her stomach growled loudly.

"Well, Temperance, how about I let my brother know I'm here and then you and I go get a late lunch? There has to be at least once place to eat in this town."

"I really shouldn't", she replied. "I have lunch in the car."

He grinned at her. "But you can't get to your car because my brother is doing his magic. Come on, my treat."

He opened the door and stuck his head inside. "Hey, Seeley, I'm here. I'm going to go get some lunch – you want anything?"

**BbB**

Booth wiped the grease off his hands and stepped into the waiting room. He was surprised to find it empty – he hadn't expected the nervous woman to leave. Shrugging, he stepped behind the desk and called two customers whose cars were ready.

As he hung up the phone, the outside door opened and in walked Jared, his arm slung around Booth's missing customer. They were laughing and talking like they were old friends.

When they saw him, Jared tossed him the wrapped sandwich he carried. "There you go, Seel. You owe me $3.75."

As Booth glared, the woman disentangled herself from his brother and asked, "Is my car ready?"

"No", Booth answered. "We needed a part. I have a guy making a run tomorrow, he can pick it up and we'll have your car ready tomorrow night."

The woman bit her lip. "Oh." She paused for a minute. "How much will it cost?"

"About $250."

She gave a small nod. "I guess that's OK. Where's my car now?"

Booth nodded towards the shop area. "Parked out back. Do you need a ride somewhere?"

"No", the woman answered, her smile a bit forced. "I'm fine. Thanks."

She turned to leave. Before she reached the door, Booth asked, "What's your name?"

She turned and looked at him, her brow furrowed. "My name?"

"Yes", Booth answered, suddenly self-conscious. "Your name. For the work order."

"Oh!", she answered, "Temperance. Temperance Brennan."

**BbB**

Brennan walked confidently out of the garage. When she was sure she was out of sight, she stopped and leaned against the side of the building.

What was she going to do?

Her bank account had a grand total of $283, which meant that this was the end of the road. She'd only be able to drive as far as the gas in her tank could carry her.

Hopefully, that would bring her to a bigger town, somewhere she could find work.

She pushed herself away from the building and started walking. She estimated that she had four hours before it would be safe to return to the car. After all, it would be awkward if the irritating mechanic found out that was where she planned to spend the night.

**BbB**

The game ended in a heartbreaking loss, and Booth reluctantly dragged himself off the couch. Idly, he wondered what time Jared would drag himself in.

When Jared had announced he was invited to some bush party, Booth had wanted to protest, to talk about staying safe and being responsible. Jared was an adult, though, and he'd stopped listening to his older brother years before. All Booth could do was pray he'd make it home without killing himself or anyone else.

Grabbing the dirty dishes off the coffee table, Booth walked into the kitchen. He piled them in the sink, casually glancing out the window as he did so.

When he saw the light coming from inside one of the cars parked behind the garage, he dropped the dishes with a clatter and darted for the door. No one was going to vandalize or steal one of his customers' cars.

Stupid punks.

Who was it this time? Bored teenagers with nothing better to do than destroy? Organized thieves, looking for cash or drugs?

He stumbled as he reached the bottom of the stairs but managed to right himself. The door slammed behind him as he raced towards the car.

He could see someone leaning into the backseat. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he ran, ready to make an example out of whoever was threatening his business.

He wasn't making any effort to be quiet, and he saw the thief straighten up and start to turn. He reached out and grabbed both arms, pulling the punk out of the car and slamming him against the back of the car before running his hands over his body to search for weapons.

_What the hell?_

**BbB**

Over the past few weeks, Brennan had developed a routine – find an out of the way spot, change into a tank top and shorts, crawl into a nest of blankets on the back seat, and drift off into a restful sleep. It was both safe and cost effective. In the morning, she'd clean up her bedding and stop at the first gas station she saw to clean up. Every couple of days, she'd find a swimming pool or gym where she could shower. Sure, she could have stopped at a motel or a campground, but she wanted to use her limited funds to travel, to see as much of the country as she could.

She straightened the blankets one last time and kicked off her shoes.

That's when she heard the sound of someone running towards her.

Before she could turn, she felt hands grasp her upper arms. Seconds later, she was bent over the back of her car, her assailant's body pressing her into the cool metal.

As she gasped for breath, he ran his hands over her body. He was efficient, obviously looking for something, but when he ran his hands over her chest, he stilled and stepped back.

It was easier to breathe when he wasn't touching her, and she took several long, deep breaths before he spoke. "Put your hands above your head and turn around."

His voice was low, huskier than usual, but she still recognized it instantly. Instantly angry, she turned around, her hands on her hips in deliberate defiance.

"Hey, I told you to keep your hands … oh God."

**BbB**

What was she _doing? _Sneaking around, breaking into her own car late at night? He peered past the irate woman in front of him to look into the back seat. "Are you _living _in your _car?_"

The question came out louder than he had intended, almost a shout. Most of the women he'd known would have looked scared, maybe taken a step back. Not her. He thought he saw a quick flicker of vulnerability cross her face, but it was quickly hidden as she stepped _toward _him, yelling back, "It's none of your business what I'm doing."

"Oh _really?_", he snapped back, "It seems to me that you're breaking into a car in the parking lot of the garage I own. That makes it literally my business."

"It's my car!" She sounded exasperated, annoyed, and a little … was that defensiveness?

He hadn't paid too much attention to her during the day – aside from her little flirtation with his brother, she was just another customer – but now that they were toe to toe, she had his complete attention. As if for the first time, he saw the beautiful hair, the mesmerizing blue eyes, the miles of silky skin.

God, she was beautiful.

"How old are you?" He hadn't intended to ask – hadn't even really realized that he'd wondered. Not that it mattered – she was obviously young, _too_ young for what he suddenly wanted to do to her.

She looked annoyed at his blunt question, and for a second he expected her to refuse to answer. To his surprise, she said, "Eighteen. How old are you?"

He smiled at her refreshing bluntness. "Twenty-three. Do your parents know you're here?"

Her face tightened, transformed by some emotion he couldn't place. "No."

He nodded, knowing what he had to do. "OK. Let's go inside. You can call your parents, tell them where you are. I have a couch – you'll be safe there tonight."

She stepped back, wincing as the previously-unnoticed gravel bit into her bare feet. "No thanks, I'm fine out here.", she said, a queen dismissing a subject. She turned to climb into her car, and he lost what patience he had left. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled, slamming the car door shut before throwing her over his shoulder. He kept one arm on her waist and the other around her legs, immobilizing them so that she couldn't kick. It didn't stop her from punching him, yelling and hitting his back like a toddler having a temper tantrum.

By the time they reached his apartment, he was breathing hard. He let her slide down the front of his body on the way to the floor, deliberately not noticing the way her tank top slid up to catch under her breasts. As she fumed in front of him, he nodded towards the wall. "Phone's there. I'm sure your parents are worried about you. Give them a call."

"No." She swallowed, visibly making an effort to restrain herself. "My parents died three years ago."

_Now_ he felt like an ass. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"I know it's not my fault, but … I'm just sorry. That must have been very hard."

"Yes." She looked around the small apartment as if searching for an escape route. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but I'd rather stay in my car."

"I'd really feel better if you stayed here", he answered. "Come on, the couch isn't that bad. You can get a good night's sleep, and that way I won't have to kick you out of the car so I can fix it in the morning."

She bit her lip and he smiled what he hoped was a charming, innocuous smile. After what seemed a lifetime, she nodded. "OK."

He clapped his hands together. "Great. I'll get you a blanket."

**BbB**

Brennan squirmed on the leather couch. It wasn't that the couch was uncomfortable. She had certainly slept worse places.

No, it was the thought of the man in the other room that was keeping her awake.

He had scared her half to death earlier. Adrenaline had flooded her, making her acutely aware of his breath on her cheek, the twitching muscle in his jaw, the heat of his body.

Before she had quit her job at the diner, she had heard the other waitresses comparing notes about their boyfriends, talking about passionate arguments and sweaty nights filled with intercourse.

She had wanted to know what that felt like. One of the boys at the group home had been happy to oblige, and they had spent the weekend of her birthday in a cheap motel room. It had been nice, but she had expected more.

Tonight, though, she thought she knew what they were talking about. When Seeley had challenged her, yelling and throwing her over his shoulder, she had felt like she could spontaneously combust.

She wondered if he felt it, too.

**BbB**

_Dammit._ Booth punched the pillow, absolutely willing to blame the inanimate object for his inability to sleep.

God, what was wrong with him?

Normally, he chose experienced women, women who could flirt, women who were content to let him be in charge.

Temperance was none of those things, yet here he was, tied up in knots over some woman who was barely old enough to be out on her own.

The way she challenged him, though, standing with her hands on her hips and giving as good as she got? Man, that was hot. It was all he could do not to walk forward until she was up against the car, pull down those tiny shorts, and fuck her until she screamed his name.

If he was being honest with himself, that's _still_ what he wanted to do. She was just steps away, asleep on his couch, and it would be _so easy _to out there and ….

He wouldn't, though. She was young, she was a guest in his house, and he didn't even know if she wanted him. If there was one thing his years in the army had taught him, it was how to maintain control.

He took a deliberate, deep breath, feeling his lungs expand, then letting the air out in a steady hiss. All he had to do was make it until morning and she'd be gone.

**BbB**

She'd had enough – enough of lying awake, enough of the tension in her belly, enough of wondering what it would be like.

She threw the blanket off and stood, self-consciously running her fingers through her hair. She took a deep breath – in, then out – and walked towards his bedroom door.

The sound of the handle turning seemed abnormally loud in the quiet apartment, and by the time the door clicked shut behind her, he was sitting up in bed. She had expected him to be groggy, confused at having been woken up, but he was fully alert. "Did you want something?"

Here it was, the moment of truth. She could turn back now and no one would be any the wiser.

If she turned back, though, she wouldn't _know_. A smile spread across her face. "Yes", she answered, and pulled her tank top over her head.

She had half expected him to protest, to tell her to put her clothes on and return to the couch. Instead, he moaned.

The moan gave her the courage to continue, and seconds later her shorts dropped to the floor. She could see something … feral in his eyes, and feeling more seductive than she could ever remember feeling before, she walked across the floor towards him, her hips swinging just a little more than usual.

In the moment it took her to reach the bed, he threw back the covers and scooted backwards until his back hit the headboard. All he was wearing was a pair of boxers and she drank in the sight of him – the firm chest, the tight biceps, the bulge of his erection. She climbed onto the bed, swinging one leg over his as she straddled him.

His hands went to her breasts, their eyes locked together as he fondled her. She arched into him, loving the feel of his calloused hands on her sensitive skin. When he dipped his head to taste her, she gasped, feeling a bolt of pleasure race through her body.

Her limited experience hadn't prepared her for the way his lips on her breast made her feel. She put her hands on his shoulders and rolled her hips, desperate for more friction, for closer contact. He moved a hand to her back, pressing her closer to his mouth. His other hand moved lower, finding and teasing her clit until she lost control.

When she could focus again, he lifted his hips and slid off his boxers. His hands moved to her hips and he lifted her, positioning himself at her entrance. Their eyes met, and she slid down, taking him in completely.

She began to move, experimenting with short, shallow movements, then lifting herself up until just the tip of him was inside her, then lowering herself oh so slowly.

When she stopped, resting on his lap and clenching her inner muscles around him, he had had enough. He surged forward, maneuvering them until he was on top of her, her head at the foot of the bed.

Now he was in control, and he set a punishing pace. The sight of him above her, the feel of him inside her, the sound of him growling incomprehensible phrases in her ear, all combined to push her over the edge. She screamed, her hips working furiously as she came.

He couldn't hold out any longer, and he fell with her, managing only to roll them onto their sides before he collapsed.

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**Weekdays? Wheel? Pleading the?**


	5. Fifth Wheel

**Note:** So apparently people wanted a continuation?

**Title:** Fifth wheel

**AU? ** Yes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them

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The apartment door had creaked since he had bought the place. It was on the list of things that needed fixing, but other things always seemed more important. He was used to the creaking.

This morning, though, the familiar creak of the door opening woke him. He sat up in bed, his heart pounding madly as panic rushed through him. It wasn't until he saw her sleeping soundly by his side that his panic started to abate.

The clock radio showed 6:22 when Booth rolled out of bed. He turned off the alarm and pulled on a pair of jeans. Jared was in the kitchen, looking none the worse for his night of partying.

Booth pointedly looked at the clock on the microwave. "Good party?" He pulled filters and coffee grounds from the cupboard and started to make a pot of coffee.

Jared grinned at him. "Didn't stay long. I hooked up with this girl and we went back to her place." At the look on his brother's face, he continued, "Come on, Seel, just because you live like a monk doesn't mean I have to. I like women, they like me, everyone's happy."

Booth grunted and turned on the coffee maker. Shaking his head, Jared pulled a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. He unscrewed the cap then, after an assessing look at his brother, grabbed a glass from the cupboard instead of drinking from the carton.

When the glass was empty, Jared set it in the sink. Clapping Booth on the back, he said, "I'm going to get some sleep. What time are you … Temperance?"

Booth whirled around. There she was, dressed in the tank top and shorts she had been wearing the night before. "Good morning", she said quietly.

Ignoring his brother, Booth walked towards her. "Good morning, Temperance", he said, taking in her finger-combed hair and the faint bruises on her arms. He lifted one hand and traced the outline of a mark on her upper arm before raising his eyes to meet hers. "I hurt you." He swallowed, horrified at the marks of what he had done to her. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "I bruise easily."

"Do you need me to kick his ass for you, Tempe?" Jared was leaning against the wall, observing the scene.

"Go to bed, Jared", Booth growled.

Jared walked over to them. He'd never known his brother to be violent with women, and he was pretty sure there was more to this story, but he wasn't going to leave until he knew that Temperance felt safe. "Are you OK?", he asked.

"Yes", Temperance answered. "He didn't mean to hurt me, Jared. Go to bed."

Jared studied her face, reading her sincerity. Finally, reassured by what he saw, he nodded. "Yeah, I guess I'm kind of a fifth wheel here. Good night Seeley, Tempe." A big grin on his face, he walked into the spare bedroom.

**BbB**

With Jared gone, Brennan felt incredibly self-conscious. What was the etiquette in these situations?

Booth wasn't helping – he was still standing in front of her, seemingly searching for something to say. Finally, she broke the silence, saying, "I should be going. I need to change and make myself scarce so that you can work on the car."

"No!" He looked stunned at his reply, which was just a little too loud. Almost immediately, she saw his face change as he made an obvious effort to hide the hint of – was that panic? When he smiled, she decided she must have misread it. After all, she'd never been that good with people.

He took her hands in his, his grip light, as he said, "I can get your stuff from the car. Why don't you spend the day here? It'll be more comfortable than the waiting room."

Brennan was sure her confusion must have shown on her face. After all, they were practically strangers – was he really inviting her to spend the day alone in his apartment? His grip tightened just a little. "I don't mind the waiting room", she answered.

His head was shaking before she finished her sentence. "I'll get your stuff, You can take a bath, watch TV, whatever you want. Maybe ..." His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Maybe we could have lunch together?"

**BbB**

_Idiot._

The single word had been running through his mind ever since he'd set the duffel bag outside the locked bathroom door and made his way downstairs to open up for the day.

As soon as Sam had arrived, he had left him in charge and retreated to the crowded office. He wouldn't be able to hide there long – despite his claims that he had paperwork to sort out, he was more valuable in the shop – but he needed to get his head around the idea that she was going to leave. He was going to fix her car, and she was going to drive off into the sunset.

He'd never see her again.

The very thought made a knot settle in his stomach.

It wasn't like he hadn't known she'd leave – hell, the only reason she'd stayed this long was because her car needed repairs – yet somehow, the night they had spent together had felt so _right_ that he couldn't imagine going back to a world without her.

_Idiot._

**BbB**

Brennan sank deeper into the steamy water. She couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd been able to enjoy the simple luxury of a bath. Her muscles relaxed as tension she hadn't even realized was there floated away.

It felt incredible.

After he'd offered to let her spend the day in his apartment, Booth had made scrambled eggs and toast, insisting that she join him for breakfast. She had helped, setting the table and pouring the coffee. It had been nice, almost like being part of a family.

After breakfast, he'd washed the dishes while she dried. She'd teased him, finding non-existent spots on the dishes. He'd retaliated, dabbing soap on her nose while she squirmed and squealed.

Before he'd gone outside to get her things, Booth had pulled two mismatched towels from his sparse linen closet and dug around in a cabinet until he found two lopsided candles and some scented soap obviously taken from a hotel room.

It was the nicest thing anyone had done for her since her parents had left.

As she soaked, she wondered what she could do for him in return.

**BbB**

"_Fuck."_

Booth shook his hand, trying to the sting of his skinned knuckles. He had been trying to loosen the bolt for far too long, but the tricky angle was making it more difficult than it had to be. Telling himself to suck it up, he reached up to give it another try.

"Boss?"

"What?", he snarled.

"You have company."

**BbB**

Brennan shifted nervously at the harshness in Booth's voice.

He had been the one to mention lunch earlier, and she had thought it would be a nice gesture to bring lunch to him. She had raided her cooler and his fridge and had ended up with a paper bag containing sandwiches, carrot sticks, and a thermos of ice water.

It had seemed like a good idea when she was upstairs, but now it suddenly seemed like a huge mistake.

When he saw her, some of the tension in his face disappeared briefly, only to be replaced by a look of panic. "Temperance! I'm late for lunch, aren't I?"

"We didn't specify a time", she answered.

He grimaced. "I'm sorry. Look, I'll just get cleaned up and we can go."

Temperance held up the bag. "I thought we could eat here?"

**BbB**

If he'd known they'd end up eating lunch in his office, he'd have cleaned the stacks of manuals and catalogs off his desk.

She'd brought him lunch. He couldn't remember the last time someone had done that for him.

She didn't even seem to mind the mess, gamely clearing off a chair and sitting down while he tossed the stacks of paper on a filing cabinet and wiped off the newly-cleared desk with some dampened paper towels from the bathroom.

He'd wanted to take her out, to show her the parts of his town that he loved, but he couldn't help but enjoy having her to himself.

She was smart, with a shy sense of humor that he liked to think was just for him. He found that he liked teasing her, and she gave as good as she got, always trying to one-up him. It made him feel young, gave him a way to forget the guilt he still carried from the war.

By the time he dragged himself back to work, he had fallen for her even harder.

**BbB**

She spent the afternoon walking through the town, peering through the windows of the shops and restaurants and soaking up the sunshine. By tomorrow morning, she'd be miles away, looking for a place to start over. Today, though, she was here, and she found herself consciously trying to remember the sights and sounds of the town – a gruff-looking woman sweeping the sidewalk in front of the diner, two men in pick-up trucks chatting in the middle of Main Street, a group of kids kicking pebbles down the sidewalk. She found a bank machine and withdrew enough cash to pay for the repairs, then made her way back to the garage.

She walked through the door as one of Seeley's mechanics walked out, flipping the sign on the door to "Closed' on the way.

She'd expected Seeley to smile when he saw her, but instead his face turned grim. He turned around and pulled the lone set of keys off the key rack. Without meeting her eyes, he set them on the counter in front of him. "Your car is ready."

Silently, she pulled out her wallet and counted out the bills as he stared at the growing pile of money in front of him. When she reached $250, he took the money and put it in the register. As he printed her receipt, he asked, "Where are you going to go?"

It took her a second to answer, and in that time he turned his head and met her eyes for the first time since she'd walked through the door. "I don't know", she answered. "Somewhere I can find a job."

He pulled her receipt out of the printer and walked around the counter until they were face to face. He handed her the receipt, saying, "Caroline's hiring at the diner."

Her brow furrowed as she processed his words. Was he asking her to stay? He was looking at her hopefully, so she replied, "Oh?"

He nodded and took a step towards her. "I like you, Temperance."

She searched his face, trying to understand what he was telling her. Finally, she answered, "I like you, too."

He nodded vigorously, taking the keys and receipt out of her hands and setting them on the counter. When her hand were free, he wrapped them in his own and tugged gently. She stepped toward him until she was close enough to feel his breath on her cheek. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured, "I don't want you to go."

Before she could answer, he bent his head and kissed her.

**BbB**

He'd spent an hour on the phone convincing Caroline that she needed another waitress. When she'd finally sighed and said, "OK, cherie, but you owe me", he'd felt relief surge through him.

When Temperance had finally appeared, he had stumbled over his words, not sure how to convince her to stay. When she'd blinked and looked at him with her clear blue eyes, he couldn't resist any longer.

Despite the way they'd spent the night, it was their first kiss, and somehow it just felt right. He'd never had such instant chemistry with anyone else, and before long they were tugging at clothes and fumbling with buttons.

He was tugging her shirt over her head when he heard the crunch of tires on the gravel parking lot outside. It was enough to pull him out of the moment, and he stepped back, frantically looking around the room. The front of the building was all glass, and the door was still unlocked. He handed Temperance her shirt and shooed her toward the office. He made a short detour to lock the front door and then followed.

**BbB**

Temperance set the shirt on the chair and leaned against the desk, ignoring the small voice that told her that she should get dressed and go. She knew she had to leave, but surely she could stay just a little longer.

She didn't have long to wait – a moment later, Booth walked into the office and shut the door behind him. His smile at the sight of her made heat pool between her thighs. Her eyes on his, she unbuttoned her jeans and kicked them off.

He stepped towards her and pulled her into his arms again. A moment later, their clothes were on the floor and she was sitting on the desk, her legs wrapped around his hips.

**BbB**

When he'd walked through the door, he'd half expected her to be dressed and ready to leave. He'd never been so glad to be wrong.

When she'd stripped off her jeans, he'd lost all ability to think. Nothing had mattered except the unrelenting urge to have her again.

It wasn't until her legs were wrapped around him and he was positioned at her entrance that he remembered that this could be their last time.

It was too late to make it the romantic experience she deserved – there was no way they'd make it all the way upstairs to his bed, and Jared was still there, anyway – but he needed to make it good for her.

Her eyes were on his, a look of concentration on her face as if she were trying to memorize him. He pushed into her, determined to make her forget whatever was going on in her head.

He began to move, bending his head to kiss her, then trailing his lips down her body until he reached one of her nipples. He sucked it into his mouth and felt her lose the rhythm briefly as she arched towards him.

Smiling, he moved his head to her other breast. By now, she was leaning back on her elbows, and her head fell backwards as her legs tightened around his waist.

He lifted his head and stilled, waiting until she summoned the energy to lift her head again. When she did, he pulled out of her and slammed back in. At the same time, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and ran his free hand firmly over her clit.

She shattered, her head falling backwards again as she arched towards him. He couldn't take any more, and he followed her into oblivion.

**BbB**

Brennan fought back the tears as the car picked up speed.

She couldn't didn't belong here.

She had a plan – find the nearest city, get a job and save enough money to start school in January.

She couldn't let herself get side-tracked by a mechanic, by some job in a small-town diner.

She turned up the radio and focused on the road. She had to keep going. She couldn't stay.

She made it ten miles down the road before she turned around.

**BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb BbBbBb**

**And … I think this is the end. Thanks to all of you who have read these, shared your suggestions, and left me comments.**


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